Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 33 - The Gift of Strength

Shuri unveiled the new arm with a flourish, her eyes gleaming with pride. It was a masterpiece of Vibranium, sleek and black with intricate Wakandan designs etched into the surface. Bucky stared at it, his expression a mixture of awe and hesitation.

"This arm is not a weapon," Shuri explained as she began the attachment process. "It's a tool, and how you use it is up to you."

Bucky watched in silence as the arm clicked into place. He flexed his new fingers experimentally, the movements fluid and natural. I could see the wariness in his eyes—the fear of what this new limb represented.

"It's... different," he said finally, his voice low.

"It's yours. Not theirs," I said, moving closer to him. "This arm is a symbol of your strength, Bucky. Not your past."

He looked at me, his eyes dark with doubt. "What if this is all people see when they look at me? A reminder of what I was."

I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Then they're not seeing you. The arm doesn't define you. You define it. This is your chance to decide what you want it to be."

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Slowly, he nodded, the resolve returning to his expression. "I want to believe that."

---

Later that evening, as we sat together overlooking the sunset, Bucky turned to me with a nervous smile. "So... about that promise. Do you still want to... go steady?"

I laughed, a warm, joyful sound that felt like a release of all the tension and fear that had been building inside me. "Yes, Bucky. I do. More than anything."

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was filled with all the words we couldn't say. It was a kiss of new beginnings, of promises made not in desperation but in hope. When we pulled away, there was a new lightness between us, a shared understanding that this was our fresh start.

---

From that moment, we began officially dating. Our days were filled with quiet joys—morning walks, shared meals, and late-night conversations that spanned everything from our pasts to our dreams for the future. We found peace in the simple things, in the knowledge that we had survived and were now free to live.

"You know," I said one day as we sat in the garden, the Wakandan sun warming our skin, "I could get used to this. A life with you."

Bucky looked at me, his eyes soft with affection. "So could I."

And in that moment, I knew we had found what we had been searching for—a place to belong, together.